Joy Rules the Day, and Love the Night
by Allekha
Summary: Victor and Yuuri spend their first happy New Year's together, and Victor introduces Yuuri to his parents.


A/N: Merry Christmas, to those who celebrate.

Happy Birthday to Victor!

Written for the prompt 'rebirth' on the holiday-prompts New Year's table.

* * *

"I like your boyfriend," Mila said from beside him as they watched Yuuri practice on the ice. "Way better at skating than the last one. Cuter, too."

"Fiancé," he corrected, holding up his hand to show off the ring. Mila gave him an odd look. Like she couldn't decide if he was serious or if he was joking about that. He let her draw what conclusion she wished.

She finally said, "You've only known him for, like... eight months? That's pretty early, don't you think?"

"Yakov and Lilia got married after only six months, you know." (And yes, they were divorced now, but he was sure that had nothing to do with how much or how little they'd waited.)

"Yeah, but, they did things differently back then, didn't they?" She shrugged, and then fell back into her usual smile. "Well, anyway. As long as he makes you happy, and you make him happy, that's the important thing. Going all in on it is like you."

 _As long as he makes you happy_ , and oh, Yuuri did, he did, he did. They'd been separated for a couple of weeks for their different Nationals, and Victor couldn't remember having such a hard couple of weeks for a very long time. Having Yuuri back – having him in his apartment and in his bed and at his rink – was making him the happiest man alive.

For so long, everything had been grey and routine. Get up, go for a morning run with Makkachin, go to the rink, go to a dance lesson or to see the physical therapist or whatever other appointments he had that day, go home. Off days were nice for spending time with Makkachin, and horrible for his creeping boredom.

And now these past couple of days, he'd gotten to go on a morning run – with Yuuri! Gotten to go to the rink – with Yuuri! Gotten to go see Lilia – with Yuuri! (She'd actually been pleased with Yuuri, in a manner that would have been effusive praise from anyone else. Minako had taught him well. Victor had used the joy of seeing her recognize Yuuri's talent to distract himself from the endless stretches she wanted him to do.)

Yuuri just made everything better. _Everything_. Making dinner was more fun when he had Yuuri to feed bites to – and it made him blush so cutely – and going to sleep was better with both Yuuri _and_ Makkachin to cuddle up to, and they'd even gotten sidetracked by a favorite song while cleaning up last night and Yuuri had pulled him into a sudden dance.

It was wonderful. Victor never wanted to be anywhere far away from Yuuri ever again.

On the short walk back home that evening, Victor couldn't settle for just holding Yuuri's hand. He had to wrap both of his arms around one of Yuuri's and cling to him. It probably would have worked better without the difference in their heights, and it made Yuuri get a little flustered, but he didn't complain. Victor smiled the whole way back.

Makkachin had always been there to greet him when he came home; now she had two humans to fuss over her. Victor stayed in the entrance to scratch her head and let him sniff, curious, at his shoes, while Yuuri went to go start dinner.

After a few minutes, though, Victor followed, Makkachin at his heels. They made dinner together and ate it together and then snuggled on the couch together, and really, when was the last time Victor had been this content? Having his dog snoozing on his legs, Yuuri's hand idly combing through his hair as he read on his phone, resting off the day's training – this was what he'd been missing for so long.

He could see signs of Yuuri everywhere in the room. His coat, on the coat rack, too heavy for Hasetsu's mild winters but better for Saint Petersburg ones. A Japanese textbook that he'd brought back from Japan for Victor (he would have bought Yuuri Russian ones, but he was surprisingly good at the language already; "I studied it in college," he'd admitted, and Victor already knew what his practice materials had been). From Hiroko, a Japanese magazine featuring the two of them on the cover, and an article that Victor had made his way through with a dictionary while Yuuri was gone.

There was _something_ missing, though... "We should put a tree up," Victor murmured. Yuuri's hand in his hair paused.

"A Christmas tree?"

"A New Year's tree," Victor corrected. "I have one around here somewhere. It's small, so Makkachin doesn't get any ideas." He was getting one, though. "Is there anything special you wanted to do for New Year's? I read that in Japan people sometimes wear kimono and go to temples and I know we can't do that here, but if there's anything else..."

"Right," Yuuri said, and for a moment there was a faraway look in his eyes. "I guess we could try to find a Japanese grocery and see if they have any of the traditional food for New Year's itself. But whatever you usually do is fine."

"A Japanese grocery it is," Victor promised, and he shifted up so he could kiss Yuuri's cheek. "We could invite Yakov and Lilia over, maybe."

"Okay."

"And... maybe my parents?"

Yuuri must have heard the hesitation in his voice, because his reply was quieter. "Sure." He paused for a moment. "If you want to?"

"They'll like you," he said. It was true. They would. Judging by the texts he'd received in Barcelona, _What's this about you getting engaged?_ , they wanted to meet Yuuri.

There was nothing _wrong_ with inviting his parents. Victor liked them. He didn't talk to them much nowadays, and he preferred them in small doses, but one evening with them would be fine.

Besides, he'd spent so much time with Yuuri's family. It was only right that Yuuri got to meet Victor's. Even if he didn't have a cool, helpful sibling like Mari, and even if his parents weren't as patient and down-to-Earth as Hiroko and Toshiya.

The next few days were busy; between time at the rink and the studio they cleaned their ( _their_ ) apartment and went shopping. Victor dug up some decorations and felt a lot more cheer putting them up than he had the year before. He even made a few paper snowflakes to tape up on the windows, the white almost glowing against the view of the city during the long nights.

On New Year's Eve, they cooked and cooked. Since they were having Japanese food the next day, having found enough of the ingredients for it, Victor introduced to him to Russian recipes that Yuuri had never had before. They were interrupted in the evening by a flurry of chirps from their phones. Yuuri wiped his hands, picked up his, and said, "Happy New Year from Japan."

There was another, smaller flurry a couple of hours later – Phichit sending Yuuri a series of pictures – not long before everyone started to arrive. Lilia and Yakov came first, Lilia as lovely as ever and Yakov not quite as dour as usual. Yuuri was quiet for the first couple of minutes, before Lilia zeroed in on him to talk about Minako-sensei. Apparently, the two of them knew each other.

Victor ducked into the kitchen to grab his forgotten phone and emerged in time to overhear Yakov telling Makkachin quite firmly that she was not to get into any more trouble this season. When he peeked over the back of the couch, Yakov had also given into Makkachin's big eyes and was rubbing her ears.

When Victor's parents arrived a short while later, Mom gave him a warm smile and a long hug while Mama offered a hand to Makkachin. They exchanged stiff greetings with Yakov and Lilia, before going straight to Yuuri. They didn't have the greatest English, and they seemed pleased and relieved when Yuuri switched to Russian.

Victor stuck near them for a while, trying to keep an ear on the conversation, when he wasn't in the middle of it, to make sure that it was going well and that Yuuri didn't need a break from them. But it went fine, and eventually Victor went into the kitchen to make more tea for everyone.

Mama followed him and leaned against the counter as he filled the kettle. "I like him," she said.

"I knew you would. Yuuri's amazing, isn't he?"

"How did the two of you meet, again? You haven't said." So he told her the short version of the story, their dance and the video and Hasetsu, and when he was done, she was frowning. "So you've really only met him this year and you're already engaged? Vitya."

He knew that disapproving tone. "Yes, because we love each other," he said, reaching for the tea, intending for that to be the end of it even if he had to quickly divert her to another subject.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't. Like I said, I like him. He seems intelligent and sweet. I'm just surprised. From our point of view, it came out of nowhere, you realize. All we knew was that you'd run off to Japan to coach someone, and then we read that you kissed him on international television, and then one day at work a colleague is congratulating me on my son's marriage! Would it hurt for you to _talk_ to us once in a while? Or at least answer our messages properly?"

"I don't ignore you on purpose, Mama." He set a timer on his phone and watched the tea start to steep. "Yuuri showed me a whole new world. I was too excited to think of anything else."

She frowned at him for a few moments longer, then sighed, and Victor could practically feel the air lighten. "Well, you would," she said. "And I suppose the time difference would have made it harder to call. Now that you're home, I expect to see you once in a while. Don't tell me you're busy, I _know_."

"Okay," he said. If they had time. It wouldn't hurt to get his parents to see all the great things about Yuuri. "And I'll remember to invite you to the wedding."

"You had better," she said, and then she folded him into a hug. She sighed again, into his shoulder, and murmured, "Sometimes it feels like you're always slipping away from us. Ever since you were ten."

Ten was when he had started staying with Lilia and Yakov three or four nights a week, to make arranging his schedule easier. By the time he'd gone to Seniors, he was staying there almost every night. By his late teens, it was just the place where he lived, even in the off-season.

"You know Yakov and Lilia were never replacements for you and Mom." And they had never tried to be. And Victor loved his parents. But Yakov and Lilia had also never argued in front of him, except for short little things that were resolved amicably and quickly, not the drawn-out things his parents had that occasionally escalated to screaming. When things went wrong, they never spiraled into franticness and worry that made Victor sick with distress to see it; they figured out what to do to fix the situation, and then they did it. Everything felt calmer with them, their expectations clearer.

"Yes, yes." The timer went off, and they broke apart again, and they went back into the living room with their tea.

The rest of the evening went well. They rang in the New Year with plenty of food and some extra mochi for dessert, washed down with lots of tea and what Victor thought were quite moderate quantities of alcohol.

After their guests had finally left, Victor got to snuggle with Yuuri in their bed, something he had missed so much when he was gone. "Your parents seem nice," Yuuri said, the words slurring from sleepiness and not the wine, since he'd only had a very little. Maybe he was still embarrassed from learning about the Sochi banquet.

Victor had a surprise in store for him. He set an alarm for what was an early time given when they had gone to sleep, but he woke up instantly when it went off. Yuuri came along with him more tiredly, rubbing at his eyes and asking what was going on when Victor excitedly dragged him from the bed.

He seemed to have the idea by the time Victor pulled him out into the frigid early-morning air. " _Hatsuhi no de_?" he asked. The first sunrise of the year. Victor had thought of the perfect spot from which to watch it, and he was armed with a thermos of hot tea to get them through it.

It was very cold, and the tea much appreciated, but the golden sky that appeared when the sun had risen some was beautiful, and so were Yuuri's shining eyes. "Happy New Year," Victor said in Japanese, the words carefully pronounced, and Yuuri answered in Russian, making them both smile. Victor reached over to nudge Yuuri around so he could take both of his hands. "Yuuri," he said, and he was never going to get tired of saying his name, never. "This is the first year where we'll be together all year."

Yuuri gave him a confused smile. "Yes, it is?"

"I'm really glad you're here," he said, because he didn't know how else to put it into words, the happiness that was bubbling over in his heart. He pulled Yuuri close. "I want to show you everything here, and I want my parents to love you, and I want to marry you—" Yuuri made a sharp little gasp. "And I want to be your Victor forever." Roommate, friend, coach, lover, partner, husband – but Yuuri didn't want him to be those things. Only Victor.

It was hard sometimes, not putting on the faces he'd learned to make since he was a teenager. But it was freeing, too.

" _My_ Victor," Yuuri said slowly, and Victor shivered not from the cold, but from his tone of voice. "Okay." He tucked Victor more securely against him. "All of that sounds good to me."

The wind blew, and it really _was_ cold, so they huddled together to watch the sunrise colors. Red, gold, pale yellow that didn't quite become green where it met the blue. When the show was over, they went back home together, hand-in-hand, for a new year full of all the life and love Victor had never realized he was missing.


End file.
